Free Fall
by Basscop69
Summary: Pre-series one shot - NJBC fun in a water park. Ok, mainly Chuck and Blair .


**It's been ages since I've written anything, so this is just a quick one-shot. It's not particularly original, but I had fun writing it. Please read and review!**

Serena and Nate are both bounding ahead with excitement, and Blair looks as though she's about to throw up as she follows.

"C'mon, guys, we're nearly there!"

Chuck rolls his eyes at the exuberant blonde. "How old are you, five? It's a slide."

"Yeah," Nate defends, laughing, "And have you seen how high it is? It looks awesome!"

"It looks unsafe," Blair snipes, more spiteful than usual because she's clearly shitting herself.

Serena notices, and squeezes her best friend. "It'll be fun, B."

Maybe Blair did just throw up, a little bit, in her mouth. "Right." How many times has Serena dragged her - all of them, in fact - into things with that very promise?

"Whoa," Nate crows, "Did you see that guy? He must've bounced at least a foot!"

Chuck hides a smirk at the mixture of wild panic and pure venom that simultaneously crosses Blair's face.

They draw closer, joining the line at last.

Blair's eyes flicker, momentarily, to the height restrictions, and her face falls as it is apparent she's just tall enough. Chuck meets her eye and smirks as she realizes he caught her. And to think, she used to be furious when she was too small for rides. To the extent that, if all her arguments and threats didn't work, Chuck ended up bribing the stewards to let her on.

She manages a scowl back at him, now.

"In twos, please! In twos!"

Blair looks up in alarm, but it's too late; Serena and Nate, already ahead, have been ushered into a separate queue.

"S!" she yelps, forgetting herself for a moment.

Serena hears and turns, stopping as she sees the look on Blair's face. "Are you ok, B? You wanna go back down?"

Chuck just catches the briefest flash of disappointment in Nate's eyes (go back down?); but he's Nate, and, looking at Blair's pale face and Serena's concern, offers, genuinely; "Do you want me to take you?"

Blair hesitates. Chuck's pretty sure she didn't miss that disappointment; they all know each other far too well. He rolls his eyes. "Chicken, Waldorf?"

Her back straightens at that. "No."

So he smirks. "Prove it, then."

Her eyes shoot to the slide, to Serena and Nate, flinching as another scream punctuates the air.

"She won't do it," he lazily informs the two blonds, challenging her with just his eyes.

And that makes up her mind. "Shut up, Bass." She sticks her chin in the air. "Let's go."

...

"Do you trust me?"

This is said with a grin designed to indicate the very opposite, but Blair finds it far more reassuring than the 'slide' in front of her. Slide being a loose term; it's more like free fall. A fatal drop. Suicide, perhaps. There's no way something that steep can be safe. And she will be falling, not sliding. There's no control in that.

Still, she's refuses to look like a coward next to Serena. She's not going to let Nate think less of her. And she's definitely not going to give Chuck the satisfaction.

But, oh my God.

Nate and Serena are already sitting in place, and Blair tries very hard not to feel too ill at the sight of Nate's legs wrapped around Serena's long bare brown ones. Nate is her boyfriend now. Nate loves her.

Except this mantra doesn't really comfort her as the life guard gives his signal, and pushes them over the edge.

Her breath catches for a second, gut twisting - if she lost them, Nate and Serena - but then she feels Chuck nudge her, snapping her out of it, as he says, "Come on, Waldorf. We're up."

For a second she can't move, and is on the verge of finally insisting she can't, and demanding to go back down (because this is so not worth it, and she needs to check Serena and Nate are all right and alive, and she can't die now because a) she's wearing one of her mother's designs, b) she's hosting her sleepover next week, c) she hasn't kissed Nate with tongues yet, and, d) dying in Wild Wadi would be hideously distasteful. And even if she doesn't die, she might be paralyzed, and then how will she get a perfect GPA? Yale is disappearing before her very eyes.)

Plus Serena's not there to make her feel brave.

"Chuck-"

"I knew you couldn't do it," he smirks.

Her jaw sets. "I can," she hisses.

"Then let's go." He gestures in front of him, offering the way. Except the gesture is anything but gentlemanly; it's a taunt, a dare, and she knows it.

And, oh God, she can't back down - but she shoots another look at the drop, and it's awful.

The guard is signaling them both over.

Then Chuck catches her hand, and Blair jumps, going to pull away - but he's only lifting it up, still with that aggravating tilt forward of his head, and an even wider smirk.

"You're shaking, Waldorf."

(This is true; her legs are shaking too), but she snaps, "I am not!"

And with that, she forces her legs to move, jerking forwards to the edge.

She sits as the lifeguard instructs, and Chuck slips down behind her. She is briefly surprised by his heat; his chest burns her bare back, though their skin must be damp from the rest of the water park; his breath, too, on the back of her neck. His scent is familiar - unlike the hideous drop in front of her - scotch and a hint of aftershave, and a musk that is pure Chuck. (She isn't entirely sure how she knows that. Probably from all the time spent in his suite and limo; clearly the smell of debauchery penetrates everywhere).

But she doesn't have time to amuse herself with that conclusion, because the lifeguard calls something else and she remembers what she's about to do.

She's insane. What the hell was she thinking -

Chuck's arms close around her waist, and she feels his breath in her ear as he murmurs into it, "You know, I find all this quivering incredibly arousing."

She stops shaking immediately. "You're disgusting -"

He just laughs, a low chuckle in her ear that makes the hairs on the back of her neck tingle; "Well, I'm only warning you."

"How kind."

But the life guard is motioning them closer to the edge now; and, instinctively, Blair shrinks back. Unfortunately, it's back into Chuck's arms.

"Waldorf, if you want me that much, you only have to-"

"Shut up."

She can feel his smirk in her hair, but his grip doesn't loosen (and she's grateful). And her fists curl, tight, on his trunks, gripping the material as the life guard asks; "Ready?" - and pushes them off.

Her scream traps in her throat as they fly off, heart and stomach leaping into her throat, she's sure, eyes squeezed tight and squeezing Chuck even tighter. She's convinced she's going to fly off altogether, but Chuck's hold is still just as firm around her.

It's almost painful, and she has never been more thankful for anything in her life.

And, as they gain speed, she suddenly realizes it's - exhilarating. Blair has never been an adrenaline junkie. Adrenaline is there for a reason, after all; she excels in controlling it. She loathes being scared - it's another way of saying out of control. (Even though she is, most of the time). But this?

This is beyond out of control. She's technically at the mercy of - well, free-fall - which should be terrifying; she's practically entrusted her fate to Chuck - and yet, she's never felt more powerful. More free.

For a moment, blood pumping and heart pounding, she actually forgets - and she opens her eyes, and she can't stop a laugh erupting. Because she's having fun. She feels like a little girl again - and, for once, that's not a bad thing - like the thrill when her father tossed her in the air, the whoosh as she fell back into the warmth of his arms.

For a moment, she can forget checking that her bikini is perfectly in place and her hair untouched by the chlorine; it's the easiest thing in the world, just to fall.

She feels Chuck laugh, in her ear - not his usual sardonic chuckle or mocking snort - but a laugh like hers. She doesn't even have time to work out how long it's been since she's heard that laugh, his real one, and it doesn't strike her as strange.

There's just the soaring air and her tingling nerves and the wide blue sky above her, the view over the rest of the park, as far as their hotel, whizzing by.

She's on top of all of it.

...

Serena rushes forward once they've picked each other up from the bottom of the slide, grabbing her hands.

"So?" she laughs, delighted by the smile on her best friend's face. Nate, too, grins as he looks from her to Chuck. "Fun?"

Blair exchanges a glance with Chuck, whose hair is sticking up in wild angles. He smooths it back, and she adjusts her bikini and acknowledges regally, "I suppose so."

...

And it's the same swooping in her stomach that she recognizes, four years later, as she climbs the steps onto a burlesque stage. Except this time, they're facing each other, and her eyes never leave his. And this time, she knows she's sure when she slides down the zip to her dress, and sure when she slides across leather seats, drowning in the same familiar scent, into a free fall of an entirely different kind.

**A/N**

This was loosely inspired after I read an online review of Victor/Victrola by Jacob:

"Blair's such a construction, such a performance, with her schemes and her bitches and the Psycho Baby Jane wardrobe and all of these things, that you can forget who's in there. God knows Blair spends most of her time ignoring that girl, and trying to get rid of her forever. She's scared, and everything keeps interrupting a thousand times, and the whole time she's trying to say something very simple. And nobody has ever looked at her the way that Chuck is looking now, regardless of the fact that she's been waiting to marry Nate since she was little. And on a stage with the lights and the music is a funny place to realize that really, nobody's never looked at her and seen her, for real. That it's the easiest thing in the world, just to dance."

Seriously, if you're a Gossip Girl fan (and especially a CB fan), and you haven't already, read him. He's reviewed all the episodes, and they're amazing.


End file.
